


This Is Not the End

by katieh28



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Justin-centric, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieh28/pseuds/katieh28
Summary: Justin Foley had nothing. His mom didn't give a shit about him, his best friend was an asshole, and the only bright spot in his life, Jessica, never wanted to see him again. Justin thought about killing himself, just ending it all- but no.He knew from experience that that only made everything worse.Justin retraces his steps and takes a walk down memory lane. If he wants redemption, if he wants Jessica back in his life, he'll need to understand why he made the choices he made. When he finally gets a second chance, he can only hope that this time he'll make the right ones.





	1. Chapter 1

"Coming!" Alex shouted as the knocking on his front door became more feverish. "I'm coming, Jesus. Hold on."

Despite the frantic knocking growing even louder outside his door, Alex could barely force himself to move.

He knew who was going to be on the other side already, and he wasn't fucking ready.

It was definitely that Clay kid. It was always him, coming to annoy the piss out of him, make him feel more guilty than he already did. It was always Clay, in some state of intense emotional turmoil, looking like he was about ready to throw himself off a building. Alex groaned as he finally opened the front door, biting his lip to keep himself from screaming.

He finally looked out, squaring his shoulders, ready to fight Clay off his lawn if he had to. When he finally saw what was actually waiting for him outside he could only stand there, eyes nearly popping out of his head like a cartoon character.

Alex was greeted on the other end by a cool breeze of Spring air and a very drunk Justin Foley, barely able to stand upright.

"Justin?"

"Hey hey," he responded jovially, giving Alex a lopsided grin. "Hey Alex, big Al. How ya doing?"

Alex tightened his hands into fists. "What are you doing here, man? It's 11:00 and it's- it's a fucking Monday."

Justin giggled to himself, leaning his head against the doorframe. "Just came to visit my old pal Al, that's all. My old friend Al. We're buddies, right?"

"Not really," Alex said, crossing his arms. He couldn't help but notice the way Justin's shoulders sagged after he said it, and for a moment he felt something like a pang in his chest.

"Look," Alex said, an exasperated sigh escaping his mouth. "Shouldn't you be at home, or with Jessica? You know, somewhere that's not my house?"

Justin suddenly turned away from him then, pressing his forehead hard against the outer wall of the house. He started to laugh.

"Jessica hates me, man," he said, his voice oddly quiet. "She hates me."

"No she doesn't. She fucking- she's in love with you."

"Not anymore," he said, bumping his forehead against the wall. "And I'm not going home."

"Why not?"

At that Justin's face started to crumple, his eyes scrunching up like he was about to cry, but he quickly regained his composure. When he finally did speak his voice was emotionless, like all the life had been drained out of him.

"I don't want to."

The way he said it- Alex was left speechless, only to stare as Justin covered his eyes with his hands and collapsed onto the front staircase. He was lying down now, pressing the side of his head against the first step, completely and frighteningly still.

"Alex!"

Alex spun around, seeing his dad calling him from the kitchen. _Shit._

"Yes, sir?" he called back.

"Who's at the door? It's 11:00 at night!"

Alex looked at his dad, standing there in the kitchen with his arms crossed, and then he looked back at Justin.

"I'll be right back," he said, reaching out to steady Justin. He still looked like he was about to topple over as Alex grabbed him by the shoulders, restoring him to some sort of an upright position. "Don't move. And don't, like- puke or anything."

"You got it, Big Al."

Alex practically ran to the kitchen. His dad was in normal clothes, not his police uniform- that was a good sign. He wasn't doing a night shift tonight, Alex figured, so he should be in a decent mood.

"What's going on out there?" his dad asked, more curious than angry.

"I-uh- it's just some kid from school. He's outside."

His dad just gave him a look, one that Alex knew he deserved.

"Well, what's he doing out there?"

Alex weighed his options. Should he just tell the truth? And if so, how much of it?

In the end, Alex decided it was easier to just make something up. It almost always was.

Alex looked up to meet his father's stare, his deep blue eyes staring into his, waiting for an answer. He knew whatever came out of his mouth now his father would believe, one way or another, no matter how bizarre it seemed. His father trusted him, believed that deep down he was a good kid who wouldn't lie to him, and suddenly Alex just couldn't do it anymore.

"He's- he's drunk, and he can't go home."

His father only narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Well why not? I could give him a ride home in the police cruiser, give him a good scare if you want."

Alex almost said yes to that- on the surface it seemed like a good option. But all he could think about was the way Justin's face crumpled at the mere mention of home.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" his father asked, his gaze suspicious all of a sudden. "What aren't you telling me?"

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to come up with some kind of explanation.

"His folks get really mad when he drinks," he finally said, with as much confidence as he could muster. "He's scared they'll ground him. He-uh- he'd probably just run away if we brought him back home."

It was a terrible excuse, Alex knew that much. But Justin hadn't given him very much to work with as far as an explanation went, and he didn't really know what else to say.

He expected his father to yell at him, but he only nodded in understanding.

"Well, I guess I'd rather have him sleep it off here than go wandering around in the state he's in. And God forbid he tries to drive himself home. No- he'll stay here tonight, I'll call his parents in the morning."

"Really? Wow- uh- thanks, dad. Sir."

"I'll set up an air mattress upstairs. You bring him in and get him something to drink."

Alex nodded, going back out to the doorway. He hoped to God that Justin hadn't passed out on the front steps- he didn't think he'd be able to haul him up the stairs by himself.

Thankfully Justin looked a little better then when he had first left him. He was sitting upright at least, and his eyes didn't have the same glazed-over look that they previously did.

"Alright," he said simply. "Come in."

Justin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously."

"Your dad is cool with it? The _cop?"_

"Yeah, he's cool. Now get your ass in here before I change my mind."

Justin stood up slowly, grabbing onto the outside railing for support. He was fairly steady until he stepped into the doorway, and then Alex saw him start to waver a little.

Alex only sighed before putting his arm around Justin's shoulder. "Here, just...here."

Justin laughed a little too loudly then, and Alex remembered he was still blissfully drunk.

"You trying to feel me up, Standall? Is that what this is?"

If Alex was anywhere near a wall, he would've slammed his head into it.

"Just hold onto me and maybe you won't fall down the stairs and crack your head open."

"Yes, Big Al. None of that. No more dying around here."

Alex turned to look at Justin, but his eyes were hazy again and Alex had to turn away.

After an increasingly annoying amount of stumbling on Justin's part they eventually made it up the stairs. Alex's dad was waiting for them in his room, his hands on his hips.

"I couldn't find the air mattress, but I figured a sleeping bag would be alright for tonight."

"Yes, sir," Justin said, automatically straightened up. Alex noticed something like fear in his eyes. "And thank you for letting me stay here tonight, sir."

His dad only shrugged. "Don't thank me," he said giving Alex a warm smile. He could tell what that smile meant. _You've got a good heart, kid._

Alex tried to return the smile, wondering if it looked as transparent as it felt.

"Alright, boys," his dad said, finally walking out of the room. "Try to get some sleep."

"We will, sir," Alex assured him, watching him walk off down the hallway. He turned to look at Justin then, who had already plopped himself down onto the sleeping bag, his eyes barely open.

"Uh- so," Justin began, his voice shaky. "I can explain why I'm here, if you want me to-"

"-Let's just go to bed for now," he said, not even bothering to take off his jeans as he slid into bed. "We'll talk in the morning."

Alex shut off the lamp next to his bed, trying to ignore the sounds of heavy breathing from the floor and his own racing pulse.

"You need anything?" he found himself saying just before he shut his eyes.

Justin was quiet for a moment, but eventually he responded. "What do you mean?"

"What does it sound like? You need anything or what?"

"Oh," Justin said quickly, his voice still off. "Nah. I'm good."

"Okay," Alex said, turning on his side and pulling his sheets over his torso. "Don't bother me in the middle of the night, then."

Justin didn't respond, and Alex figured he was probably finally passing out. Alex was just surprised he had lasted that long.

Alex was almost about to drift off to sleep himself when he heard the rustling of a sleeping bag below him. Alex tried to ignore it, but he was used to sleeping in silence and the noise was getting on his nerves.

"Dude, stop moving around," he finally snapped. "It's annoying."

"Oh-right. Sorry."

"It's fine," Alex sighed, readjusting himself on his mattress.

They were quiet for a moment, and Alex assumed Justin had fallen back asleep. When he did speak up, Alex was so startled he nearly fell out of bed.

"Why are you doing this?"

Alex ran a hand through his hair. It was a good question, but he was at a loss for words.

"I don't know."

"Come on," Justin said, his voice rising now. "I need a reason, Standall."

"Why do you need a reason?"

"Because-" Justin began, sounding oddly desperate. "-You're letting me sleep in your fucking house, man. Give me something. I just- I don't get it!" 

Alex took a deep breath, his eyes still wide open in the pitch-black room.

"Because," he began, his voice quiet but steady. "Because I'm thinking I should do something for somebody else. I should do _something."_

Alex felt his breath catch in his chest, realizing it was the closest thing to any kind of truth that he's said in a long time.

He heard Justin turn on his side, and he moved to do the same.

Alex pulled his quilt over his head, feeling the warmth and darkness encapsulate him, and for a minute he could pretend that he was drowning in it.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Justin woke up to a room that was not his own and infinitely too bright. He blinked a few times at the light blue wall staring back at him, the sun streaming in from the window next to the bed.

_Who's fucking house was he in?_

Justin racked his brain for an answer, but nothing came to him. 

"Hey," he tried, his voice sounding a little bit too desperate for his liking. "Anybody here?"

From his position on the floor, Justin could see a bed above him. He got up to see who was in it but the bed was empty, the blue sheets strewn messily over the mattress.

So he was alone.

Justin sat down heavily onto the bed and sighed, running his hands through his hair. His shoulder still ached from when Seth had punched him the day before, his head was pounding and all in all he felt like utter shit. All he remembered from last night was getting drunk and - Jessica, God, _Jessica-_ throwing him out on his ass. He remembered her telling him that she never wanted to see his face again, remembering he couldn't exactly blame her for that, but praying that she could forgive him anyway.

But she couldn't, and he deserved that, but it still didn't mean he needed her any less.

"You're up?"

Justin almost jumped at the voice, and he looked up to see Alex Standall standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his thin waist and blonde hair wet and ratty.

Justin opened him mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Uh, good," Alex said, grabbing a comb from the top of his drawer. "My dad made pancakes if you want 'em. School starts in like an hour."

Justin had a million questions, a thousand things he should be asking, but all that came out of his mouth was a simple "okay."

Justin stood up and readjusted his oversized gray sweatshirt as Alex pulled on a black t-shirt and some skinny jeans. They both made their way down the stairs without saying a word.

When Justin got to the end of the staircase, he could barely believe his eyes. Alex's father was standing there over the stove, surrounded by several bowls and a counter covered in what appeared to be flour.

He had made pancakes. He had made pancakes, real pancakes, _from scratch._

"Well you two are up early," his dad said, turning around and smiling at the two of them.

"I smelled the pancakes," Alex said, going over to the cupboard and grabbing a plate. Justin only hesitated for a moment before following right behind him.

"I figured you could use it. It was a long night for both of you, I'm sure."

"Yeah, definitely," Alex said, getting a can of butter from the fridge.

"Are pancakes alright with you, Justin?"

"-What?"

Mr.Standall paused for a moment, turning to face Justin. "Do you like pancakes? I can get you something else if you don't. We have eggs, yogurt, cereal-"

Justin only bit his lip, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, and suddenly he wanted to turn and fucking _run._

"Pancakes are great, thanks."

"Good."

"Almost as good as moms," Alex said, and Justin thought it was meant to be playful until he said the look in Alex's eyes, and the way his father squared his jaw.

"We're not going to talk about this right now, Alex."

Alex sighed, pouring maple syrup onto his plate. "Right. Not right now, never right now."

Mr.Standall simply deposited a stack of 3 pancakes onto Alex's plate, and then did the same for Justin. "Eat up, kids. I don't know how great these are, but they've got to be better than whatever mystery meat they'll be serving today."

Alex dug into his pancakes right away, barely taking a breath between bites. Justin stared at his for a moment, marveling at them. He could practically feel the warmth radiating from them, and the smell of butter and maple syrup was all at once intoxicating and perfect and too sweet and altogether too much. 

He took one bite and it was _too_ good, too fucking good, it made his stomach warm and there were fucking _chocolate chips_ in the bottom one, and suddenly Justin couldn't do it anymore. He stood up from his chair, announced that he had football practice in a half hour, and practically ran out the door.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_"Mom, what are you doing?"_

_Justin stood in the doorway, watching his mom from outside her bedroom door. It was a Tuesday and he had missed the bus, so he figured he'd need a ride to school. He had run back in his house to find that his mother was still there, sitting on her bed and smoking a cigarette while reading a gossip magazine._

_"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm reading. Now leave me alone."_

_"Aren't you supposed to be at work."_

_"I was going to tell you, Justy," she said, stretching her legs out on the mattress before crossing them. "I quit a while ago. It just wasn't for me."_

_"Why?"_

_"I just told you, kid. I didn't like it, okay?" his mother snapped._

_"Okay, Sorry," Justin said quickly, taking a step back. "Can I at least have a ride to school, then?"_

_"Why do you need a ride to school?"_

_"I just do, okay? I don't know how else to get there."_

_"Well how do you usually get there?"_

_"I take the bus, mom," Justin said, taking a sharp breath in through his nose. "I take the bus everyday but I woke up late this morning and I missed it today so can I please have a ride to school?"_

_His mother sighed like he had just asked her for gold. "Listen, Justin. I'm kind of busy here, alright? I've been tired, too. I think I'm getting sick."_

_Justin scowled, feeling his hands ball up into fists. She was always fucking sick, wasn't she?_

_"So you can't give me a ride, then."_

_"I'm sorry, kid," she said, sitting back in bed. "I'm just so tired right now- I need my rest."_

_"Fine."_

_"I'll be better in a few days, you'll see."_

_"Yeah, I'm sure you will."_

_Justin sighed as he walked out the door, ready to make the 5 mile trek to school so Coach wouldn't murder him for skipping practice for the 10th time. He was almost out the door when he heard his mother's scraggly voice call him from the hallway._

_"Justin, hon, come in here!"_

_Justin knew he should've ignored her, but he figured that would only make things worse later on- especially if Seth was going to be around._

_"What is it, mom."_

_"I don't think I'm well enough to get something for myself," she said, coughing loudly for affect. Justin tried not to roll his eyes. "Could you make me something to eat?"_

_"Mom..." Justin sighed, suddenly feeling completely drained. "I have to get to school."_

_"Come on, honey. I'm starving here," she said, her voice desperate and sickly sweet. Justin used to find it sad, sometimes even felt some sympathy for her. Now it only made him sick to his stomach._

_"Alright," he said, his voice monotone. "What do you want."_

_"How about some pancakes?" she said, turning the page of her magazine. "I could go for some pancakes."_

_"We have mix and stuff?"_

_"Of course we do," his mom said, raising her eyebrows at him._

_"You remembered to go to the store?" Justin asked incredulously. Food had never been a big priority of his mothers', and often times if his mom forgot to go grocery shopping he would just have to eat whatever scraps he could find._

_"Of course I did!" she exclaimed, sounding slightly offended. "What kind of a mother do you think I am?"_

_Justin allowed himself to get excited, against his better judgement, but in his defense- when was the last time his mother had real food in the house? When was the last time she had anything besides chips and Doritos and booze lying around? When was the last time he had left for school and not been starving?_

_Justin flung the first cupboard open, then the next one, then the next one. Nothing, nothing, a box of stale Oreos, nothing._

_He opened the fridge, only to find a tub of Cool Whip and a bottle of cheap wine._

_For the first time in a long time, Justin sat down at the table, put his head in his hands and allowed himself to cry._


	3. Chapter 3

It was proving impossible to avoid Alex at school, and God knows he fucking tried. Everywhere he went it was like that stupid blonde mop of his was following.

Justin tried to let it go, tried to ignore the eyes on him everywhere he went, but it was becoming too much. He hadn't meant to snap, but when he saw Alex was even trailing him on his way to fucking Algebra he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Standall, what the Hell is your problem?"

Alex stepped back, giving him a look like _he_ was he crazy one.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay. Excuse me for giving a shit."

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be fine?"

Alex just sighed. "Seriously? You seriously don't know why?"

"Whatever, just get out of my way," Justin said, motioning to push past him.

"Why'd you run out of the house like that today?" Alex asked, his eyebrows drawn together in concern.

Justin only squared his shoulders. "I told you, I had football."

"Right. _Sure_."

Justin _really_  didn't like the way Alex was talking to him right now, and before he knew it he was shoving the kid's scrawny ass into the lockers.

"You're blocking the hallway Standall, Jesus Christ."

He said it loud enough that the kids around him heard and laughed as Alex stumbled into Alicia Stone's pink bedazzled locker.

Justin just stood there and smirked at him for a moment, laughing to himself, and then Alex met his eyes. Even as the little twerp stood there rubbing his shoulder he was giving Justin this look like he felt sorry for _him_ , and suddenly it just wasn't funny anymore.

Justin made his was down the hallway, not looking back and not saying another word.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dad was right, mystery meat again."

Justin just put his hand on his forehead as he watched Alex place his lunch tray right next to him. He hadn't eaten anything since the one piece of pancake that morning, and he was in no fucking mood to hear this guy bitch about how his daddy hadn't provided him with enough high quality lunchmeat.

"Seriously dude?"

"What?" Alex said, like it was totally normal for a guy like him to be sitting with a guy like Justin.

"Don't you have any friends?"

Alex just narrowed his eyes at him, giving him a nasty glare that Justin knew he deserved but honestly couldn't care less about. Like, if he cared any less he'd probably be dead.

"Don't _you?"_ he spat, looking around the lunch table. "Where the fuck are they, huh? Where's your little pal Bryce these days?"

"Watch your fucking mouth, Standall."

"No," he said, the words like a slap. "And fuck you for even asking me to. You know what? I'm tired of watching my mouth. I'm sick of it."

"Standall-"

"NO. Don't you dare fucking tell me to just keep my mouth shut. I'm not gonna do it anymore, alright? So you can just go-"

"Alex!"

The use of his actual first name stopped Alex dead in his tracks. It was the first time he'd ever heard Justin call him anything besides "Standall" and a few select derogatory nicknames.

"Jesus, man. You're making a scene."

Alex looked around for a moment, gauging the interest of the room, and he quickly realized Justin was right. People were staring- a lot of people.

"Sorry," he said, sinking into his seat, his face reddening. He just sat there for a moment before picking up his plastic spoon and starting in on his lunch. Justin wished he could just not notice the way the kid's hand was shaking, the bright pink of his cheeks.

But that was the root of all his problems, wasn't it? If he could just _not_ notice, just not _care_...everything would be different.

The only thing stopping him from just not caring was that he couldn't, he actually couldn't. He'd been trying ever since he was young, every since his dad left, ever since his mom first started drinking.

He had been searching for the switch, the one that allowed him not to feel, not to care, to just live his life for himself. He had enough shit in his life already, the last thing he needed was to deal with everyone else's. But he never did find that switch. No matter how hard he tried.

Justin took a deep breath, popping the collar on his football jacket.

"Look," he said unable to meet Alex's eyes. "I didn't mean to push you into the lockers today."

"Yeah you did," Alex said, surprisingly calm.

Justin considered lying, but he'd had enough of the lies and bullshit for a while, especially his own.

"Yeah," he said, slowly nodding his head in agreement. "I guess I did."

Justin was ready to brace himself for whatever Alex was gonna do to him, but the guy just started fucking _laughing._

He was about to ask what was so fucking funny, but the truth was he kind of did get the joke and it was kind of fucking hilarious.

Soon enough they were sitting laughing together, Alex practically choking on his mystery meat and Justin bracing himself on the table to keep from falling over.

Before the lunch bell rang, Alex pushed his pudding cup towards Justin, stating that the vanilla one was gross but he figured some people must like it.

Justin refused to take it no less than 4 times before he finally agreed, inhaling it in under 10 seconds.

"Gross, right?" Alex asked, smirking at Justin, looking down at his empty pudding cup.

"Disgusting."


	4. Chapter 4

When Alex got home that day his dad was waiting in the doorway, arms crossed and mouth set in a hard line.

Alex immediately felt his pulse race as he had to resist the urge to salute his own father.

"Good afternoon, sir," Alex said, his shoulders stiffening. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

His father sighed, taking a step towards him. "You can relax, son. You're not in trouble."

Alex breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his shoulders relax a little.

"-But there's still something important we need to talk about."

Alex found himself nodding feverishly. "Yes, sir."

"Here, take a seat," his father said, sitting at the dining room table and gesturing for his son to do the same. Alex sank into his chair, a new feeling of uneasiness washing over him.

His father clasped his hands together, placing them on the table. "I don't see any point in beating around the bush," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "...I talked to your friend's father today, that Justin boy."

Alex nodded. Of course his dad called, being the responsible cop that he always had to be.

"Well, I need to ask you- has Alex talked to you about his family at all? About his home life?"

Alex drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "I-uh- I don't know. I don't think so."

That much, at least, was the truth. It's not like he and Justin were buddy-buddy, in fact he had never said a word to the guy before the whole fiasco with the tapes. All he could think of was how close to tears Justin appeared to be outside his house last night, just at the thought of home.

"He's never said anything at all?"

Alex just shook his head. "No, sir."

His father sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Alright then."

Before he could stop himself, Alex was opening his big stupid mouth. "Is something going on?"

His dad paused for a moment, seemingly considering his choice of words. "I don't mean to upset you, son, but I think you're old enough to hear this."

Alex just nodded, urging his dad to go on. For whatever reason, he felt like he needed to hear this.

His father cleared his throat. "When I talked to his father on the phone- well, he said something to me that implied violence."

Alex frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

His father took a deep breath. "I don't know how to say this, kid...I've been on the force for a long time now, and I've dealt with my share of violent abusers. When I spoke to your friend's father- there were just too many red flags."

Alex's mouth gaped open, barely able to comprehend his father's words.

"I know it's a lot to take in, son," his father said, his eyes sympathetic. "But I heard the threats, the aggression in his voice, and I just got a bad feeling in my gut. And don't think I'm just jumping to conclusions, I did my research. I talked to the guidance counselor and one of the coaches up at the school, and they both told me they've suspected abuse for a long time now."

Alex gulped, a sinking feeling in his gut. His eyes were stinging now, burning, and he hated it.

"-That, along with those marks on his neck...I couldn't just ignore it, son."

Alex froze. "Wait-what _marks?"_

His dad took a breath, looking his son straight in the eyes. "He had marks on his neck this morning, Alex. It looked like- well, I don't want to speculate. But I couldn't just pretend not to see it, either. That's my job, kid- to protect people. Even if it does end up being nothing- I still have to look into it."

"What're you going to do?" he finally asked, his voice surprisingly small.

"That's where I'm going to have to ask you a favor, kid," he said, his voice low. "I need you to ask him over here for dinner, you know...talk to him, make him feel comfortable. I want to make sure he trusts me before I talk to him about his situation. He's your friend, and I don't want to make him feel cornered, but- I just have a bad feeling that kid is getting hurt."

"Yeah, sure, of course," Alex said, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. _Fuck._

"Alright, good," his father said. Suddenly he reached his arm out across the table, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder.

"We're gonna help him, son, I promise. We're not going to let this boy fall through the cracks."

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Seriously, Standall?" Justin asked as he exited the gymnasium. Alex had just asked coach to pull him out of practice, the _one_ time of the day he had to himself where he didn't have to deal with everyone else's shit. Coach Patrick had come to him and said that someone was waiting for him outside the court and that it was urgent, so he figured it had something to do with his mom. When he saw it was just little Alex Standall standing there in his stupid cardigan sweater he almost punched the wall.

"Hey, Justin," Alex yelled from outside the gymnasium. It looked like practice was just ending, as everyone seemed to be heading off the courts in the direction of the locker rooms. "Wait up!"

"...Standall?" Justin said incredulously, as though he hadn't seen Alex in years. "Man, what are you doing here?"

"I had to talk to you," Alex said. He started running across the gym then, hating how fucking slow he was compared to the rest of these guys, and sure enough one of them started laughing at him.

_"Fucking run like a dude, Standall!"_

_"Standall runs like a chick!"_

The whole basketball team seemed to erupt into a chorus of laughter, and Alex felt his cheeks getting hot. He glanced down at the ground awkwardly, feeling like a total pussy- but in his defense, any of those meathead probably could've killed him if they wanted to.

"Come on guys, seriously? Shut the fuck up."

Alex's head shot up at the sound of Justin's voice.

"Hey, we were just having a little fun with him," Marcus said.

"Yeah, dude wears a cardigan and a nose ring like everyday. What was he expecting?" Billy added.

"Come on," Justin said, sounding tired all of a sudden. "Do you guys seriously want to get in trouble with Coach over something this stupid?"

Marcus responded by throwing his arm around Justin's shoulder grandly, and Alex didn't miss the way Justin scowled as he did it.

"Well would you look at that," Marcus said, picking up a basketball that had landed near his feet. "Justin Foley being the voice of reason. Who would've thought?"

"Shut the fuck up, dude, seriously. I'm not in the fucking mood."

"Ooookay," Marcus said, giving him a look like he was crazy. "Let's go, guys."

Everyone followed Marcus into the locker rooms, leaving Justin and Alex alone and face to face.

"Uh, thanks for that," Alex said, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. He can be a real douche sometimes," Justin said.

They stood there in silence for a moment, Alex watching as Justin wiped the sweat off his glistening forehead, still breathing heavily from practice.

"So, I, uh," Alex began awkwardly. "I, uh, just-"

"Spit it out, Standall."

"Right," Alex said quickly. "Uh- the team. They're looking pretty good this year, right?"

Justin just gave Alex a look. "...Right. Well, we got Zach, and he's leading the league in points, so-"

"Good to know," Alex said, biting his lip. "...Listen."

"I've been listening, Standall. Get on with it."

"-You should, uh- do you want to come over for dinner or something? You know- later."

Justin just stared at him like he had two heads. "What, does your dad want to adopt me or something?"

"How'd you know it was my dad's idea?"

"Well I knew it wasn't yours, so..."

Alex stared down at his hands. Slowly he reached into his pocket and grabbed the granola bar he had brought.

"Hey, uh- you look hungry. Well, I'm guessing, like with all the running around you probably would be. Want this?"

Justin looked down to see a Luna Bar in Alex's hand, the shiny purple foil taunting him as his stomach growled. He didn't even particularly like granola bars, but at that point he could practically taste it already.

"Really? A Luna Bar?" Justin said, straightening up. _Be cool_ , he reminded himself. Be cool, be mysterious, _be Justin Foley_.

"Yeah...what's wrong with it?"

"Aren't those for chicks?" he sneered, looking down at it like Alex had just offered him a plate of dog shit.

"I mean, they're good, so..."

"You think I can't get my own food?"

"No! I mean- that's not what I meant. Don't be an asshole, I was just trying to be decent for once."

Justin just squinted his eyes at him. Alex was looking at him with wide blue eyes, his hand practically shaking as he held the granola bar out in front of him.

" _For once?"_

"Well...yeah."

Justin just sighed, eyeing the Luna bar one last time before turning away. "I'll come for dinner tonight, but there's no way in fucking hell I'm eating something _lemon zest_ flavored, so get that stupid bar outta my face."

"7:00 is okay?" Alex asked, quickly shoving the granola bar back into his pocket.

"Yeah."

"Good."

"And Alex?"

"Yeah?"

Justin gave him a look he didn't quite recognize. "You've always been decent."

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"That was fast," his father announced as Alex walked into the kitchen. "You couldn't find him?"

"No, uh- he was there," Alex said. "He'll be coming over in about an hour, sir."

"Good," his father said, nodding to himself. "I'll start getting dinner ready."

"Would you like me to set the table, sir?"

His father just beamed him the brightest smile that he had ever seen, and for the thousandth time that day Alex wished he could disappear.

"That's alright, son. You go do your homework. I'll take care of everything down here."

"Yes, sir."

Alex started walking away then, but he could still feel his father's eyes on him as he made his way towards the steps.

"Hey, Alex?"

Justin only turned around, his heart hammering out of his chest. He knew what was coming, knew it in his bones. He also knew he couldn't handle it- not today.

"Yes, sir?"

His father turned to look at him, pride and admiration practically pouring out of his eyes, and Alex wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never come out.

"I'm real proud of you, kiddo," he said softly, giving him a warm smile. "I know it hasn't been easy on you since your mom left, and everything that's going on with Justin can't be easy on you either. I'm just so proud of how you're handling it all."

"Thank you, sir," Alex said, feeling his stomach begin to tie itself into a knot.

His father's smile only got wider, if that was possible.

"You're a good kid, Alex. _You're a good kid._ A good friend, too."

Alex took a deep breath through his nose, forcing himself to breathe.

"I'll go start my homework."

Alex practically ran up the stairs, too afraid to even risk looking at his father one more time.

Even once he got up to his bedroom and slammed the door those stupid fucking words, those stupid fucking _lies_ just kept on repeating over and over in his head.

" _You're a good kid, Alex. A good friend, too."_

Alex threw himself onto the bed, and only then did he begin to scream at the top of his lungs, his cries muffled only by the pillow he had pressed his face into.

_Such a good fucking friend, Alex._

_Somewhere in the distance, Hannah Baker laughed and laughed and laughed._

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_"Yo, you're telling me you'd choose a fucking Pidgey over Pikachu?"_

_Bryce was just staring at him from across the lunch table, and for the billionth time Alex had to question why he even sat with these idiots in the first place. He had figured before that it was better than sitting alone, since there were no other open seats in the lunch room. Now, well, he wasn't so sure._

_"Well, yeah," Alex said, running a hand through his hair. "If Pokémon were real...yeah, I would."_

_"Well, that's just stupid."_

_"Not really," Alex said, readjusting his nose ring. He had just gotten the piercing, and it was still a little bit itchy._

_"But Pikachu can zap shit, anything you want," Bryce said, his eyes lighting up. "You don't like somebody, just have Pikachu fry 'em. It'd be sick."_

_Alex only nodded, frowning down at his pre-algebra binder on the cafeteria table._

_"I don't know...I think I would still want a Pidgey."_

_"Seriously?"_

_"Well, yeah," Alex said, turning his gaze towards the window. "I think I'd just...I'd want to be able to fly."_

_Bryce only looked at Alex like he had two heads. "If I had a Pidgey, I think I'd just make him fly around and shit on people's cars all day."_

_The entire lunch table erupted with laughter, and Alex only looked down and bit his lip. He couldn't wait for lunch to be fucking over._

_"Seriously, Standall, a Pidgey? That is like the lamest thing I've ever heard."_

_"Laugh it up, Bryce, laugh it up," Alex muttered to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. He knew he should be eating his lunch, he was already too skinny as it was, but he didn't think his stomach could handle it right now._

_Alex only withdrew into himself now, hating himself for feeling this way over something so stupid, for letting Bryce make him feel this way over something so stupid. He could still smell the chicken sandwich from his lunch tray, and God, it was making him sick to his stomach._

_"-I get what he's saying."_

_Alex's head snapped up at the quiet voice, one he barely knew but somehow still recognized._

_There, sitting in the corner next to Zach, was none other than super-jock Justin Foley._

_Bryce just turned towards Justin, his mouth twisted in an odd grimace. "You do?"_

_"Yeah," Justin said like it was no big deal. "I mean- yeah, I get it."_

_"Alright, enlighten me bro, cause I have no fucking clue what this guy is talking about."_

_Justin just shrugged, picking at the sleeve of his old fleece jacket. "I mean, I get it. The urge to just, you know, fly away."_

_Justin looked up at Alex then, and Alex noticed for the first time how incredibly clear, incredibly blue Justin's eyes really were._

_"If I had a Pidgey, man," Justin began, his voice low. "I would fly way the fuck out of here. So far away, nobody would ever find me again."_

_The lunch table got quiet, deathly quiet. Alex wanted desperately to look away, but Justin's eyes were just too blue and he couldn't- he just couldn't. Alex wanted desperately to look away, to not notice anything, to not see the purple bruise between Justin's too-blue eyes. He wanted desperately to not remember the same purple bruise there a few weeks earlier, and he really, really wanted not to remember the cut on his forehead from last month that didn't seem to have an explanation._

_Alex finally escaped Justin's eyes, finally returned his gaze back to the cafeteria table. He tried to block out the rest of the lunch conversation, desperately waiting for the bell to ring, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't block out Justin's voice. Justin's voice, quiet but clear, sounding like it was a message only for him._

_"Yeah, I would want a Pidgey, too." Justin said, his voice low. Alex heard him still, loud and clear._

_"I would fly away, man, you know? I would- I would be free. I would finally be free."_


	6. Chapter 6

Justin didn't want to be here, he really fucking didn't.

But it just so happened that he hadn't had a real meal in over 12 hours, and at this point he would take any offer of food he could get. He could deal with the Standalls if it meant that he would get some warm food in his stomach for once. Justin could force himself to handle the real homemade meals cooked in an actual oven, the roasted chicken and sweet potatoes type shit that his dad probably cooked for him every night. He could handle that, he had to.

Justin sat on the couch as Alex helped his father cook in the kitchen, and God- Justin could already smell the garlic bread from his seat in the living room.

Justin felt like he was going to pass out if he didn't eat something soon, his stomach felt like it was caving in on itself.

Thank God for Alex Standall's fucking pudding cup, or he would probably would've starved to death by now.

Alex sighed, watching the scene unfold in the kitchen. Alex was stirring a pot while his father was removing some sort of dish from the oven. They were talking and laughing the whole time, like old fucking _chums._ At one point while he was stirring the pot Alex's father placed a hand on his shoulder, and Justin thought he was going to be sick.

Justin rubbed at his face, eyes burning, and muttered to no one in particular that he was going to the bathroom.

Justin ran down the hall to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, and only then did he allow himself to breathe.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

" _You're kidding," Justin said, raising his eyebrows at his mother. "Seth is fucking cooking us dinner?"_

_"Yeah, lasagna and meatballs. Smells pretty good, at least," his mom said. Her eyes were glassy and her voice was oddly low, so Justin figured she was still coming off of something._

_"Really? Lasagna?" He said incredulously. "You're serious right now?"_

_"Dead fucking serious," she replied, her mouth still held in a semi-permanent scowl. "Now don't be an asshole to him tonight, okay? I don't want to deal with it."_

_Justin wanted to yell, wanted to scream that actually Seth was the asshole, the abusive piece of shit that she allowed to live with them, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. Seth was actually cooking, his mom wasn't passed out drunk on the couch, and maybe things were looking up._

_Justin knew he shouldn't have, but his curiosity got the better of him and suddenly he had to see what the fucker was cooking. Justin started walking towards the kitchen, the scent of cheese and Italian seasoning already reaching him from the hallway._

_Justin allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Maybe, just maybe Seth was going to try to be decent to him this time. Justin wasn't stupid; he didn't expect Seth to come in and play Daddy Warbucks and start taking care of him or whatever. Justin didn't need any of that, anyway. But maybe, just maybe he'd start helping out with rent, and cooking meals every one in a while, and cleaning up after himself, and maybe even stop beating on his mother._

_Maybe he was trying, and maybe that was enough._

_Justin was brought out of his fantasy when the smell of cheese and sauce was replaced by the scent of something burning. Justin sprinted into the kitchen then to see smoke pouring out of the oven. Justin stormed into the living room only to find Seth exactly where he always was: sitting on his couch like a bum, feet up on the table like he owned the place._

_"You don't smell that?" Justin asked, momentarily incapable of understanding his mother's boyfriend's stupidity._

_"What?" he spat, scratching at his armpit like a slob._

_"You're fucking food is burning!"_

_Seth just made a face, scowling at no one in particular, but he made no move to get his ass up off the couch._

_"Well? Aren't you gonna get it out? You're gonna break our fucking oven!"_

_"Why don't you get it out, you little shit? You're already up and it's not like you're doing anything!"_

_"It's your fucking lasagna, you idiot! Now you get it out!"_

_Seth only sneered at him, relaxing further into the couch. "You're such an ungrateful little shit," he spat, and God, Justin hated him then. He always hated him sure, but right then he really, really hated him. Right then, his hatred was like the smoke that encapsulated his kitchen, thick and dark and everywhere._

_"You know what?" he said, getting up in Seth's face now, blocking his view from the TV. "Get the fuck out of here, man. We don't need you here. Go find somebody else to mooch off of you piece of shit."_

_"Hey, get out of the way you little twerp!"_

_"Get the fuck out of my house!"_

_Something changed in Seth's eyes now, his annoyance morphing into anger. He stood up abruptly then, advancing on Justin menacingly, and without warning he punched him square in the jaw. Justin fell backward into the table, pain radiating through his hip as he landed harshly into the corner. Before he had the chance to get himself up Seth picked him up by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. Justin barely had a chance to breathe before he was shoved into the wall again, and then again and again, his shoulder blades thumping harshly against the hard wood and radiating pain throughout his back. He shook him a few more times then before grabbing his collar, forcing Justin to look him in the eyes._

_"This is my house now, you little turd. If you don't like it, you can get out."_

_When Seth finally let go of Justin's shirt he slid to the ground, only remaining for a moment before he gathered the strength to stumble off to his room and lock the door. Once inside he had to bite his fist to stop the tears from flowing freely, the tears he knew were only behind the surface of his eyes, but he wouldn't let himself break down. Not now. He wouldn't even think about Seth or his mother right now, he couldn't. He would survey the damage, clean himself up and go to bed. He could manage that, he had to._

_Justin slowly walked towards the mirror behind his bedroom door. He couldn't help but wince when he finally got the courage to look at himself. There was already a nasty bruise on his jaw, and one of his teeth had been chipped. There were marks on his arms where Seth had grabbed him, and he could only imagine the kinds of marks he would find if he would dare to take off his shirt._

_Justin dragged himself over to his bed, picking up his cellphone as he practically threw himself onto the mattress. He opened up to his contacts and thought about who he could call, scrolling through the list of names with his thumb. Most of them were strangers, he quickly realized, people he had bumped into in the hallways and chatted with while waiting in the lunch line. They liked him sure enough, but they didn't know him. Not really. He couldn't trust them, no way in Hell could he trust them._

_Then there were the guys on the team. Zach, Andy, Jackson...the people he counted as actual friends. People he sat with at lunch, people he rode the bus with, people he hung out with every day at practice. His real family._

_They really were like his real family, and that was why it really fucking sucked that he couldn't come to them either. Not when their parents already suspected something was going on at home, not with their constant hush-hush comments about how he looked underfed and sleep deprived and how sometimes he had an odd limp that would continuously reappear with no explanation throughout the school year. If Justin went to one of these guy's houses looking like he did they would probably call CPS on his mom and get him removed from her home, and then he would really be alone._

_And then their was Bryce. Fucking Bryce with his perfect fucking family and perfect fucking house and perfect fucking life._

_No way was he going to show up on that douchebag's doorstep crying like a little girl. No fucking way._

_Justin turned his phone on silent and tossed it under his pillow. He turned around then and pressed his face into his pillow, and for a moment there was no noise, no light, nothing._ _Just like always, he had nothing. But this time, he couldn't just shake it off- he couldn't ignore it. This time the nothingness was everywhere, threatening to consume him, threatening to destroy him if it hadn't already._


	7. Chapter 7

"Justin, we're all set over here. You can come grab a plate whenever you're ready."

Justin watched as Alex served himself a heaping serving of spaghetti and two sticks of garlic bread. Justin shot Alex's father a quick glance, and the man gave him a warm smile in return. Slowly, tentatively, Justin served himself a small scoop of pasta, and then another, and then another. Eventually his plate was nearly overflowing, and he only hoped he didn't look as hungry as he actually was.

This time at Alex's table Justin couldn't stop himself from stuffing his face, not caring how he looked even as he felt the gazes of the two other men on him. It was just so warm, and real, and he couldn't get enough.

Eventually he did have to come up for air, and when he did Alex's father was looking at him with sympathetic eyes.

 _Great._ As if he needed another fucking pity-party.

"Did you want anything to drink, Justin?" Alex's dad asked, gesturing towards the fridge.

"Oh, uh- no that's okay," he said quickly, looking down at the table and hoping his cheeks weren't too red.

"Are you sure? We have Gatorade."

"Oh-yeah, actually, that would be great, thanks."

"Get your friend a Gatorade, huh?" Mr.Standall said, elbowing his son.

"Yes, sir," Alex said, and in less than a minute Alex was sliding an orange Gatorade bottle across the table. Justin popped the cap and took a huge gulp-nearly half the bottle- before putting it down. His food was almost gone and he was restless now, his eyes shifting between Alex and his dad, not exactly sure who he should be looking at or what he should be saying or what people actually _did_ during these weird-ass family dinners. They had always seemed awkward on those stupid sitcoms, but somehow they were even more uncomfortable in real life.

Justin took another sip of his Gatorade, watching as Alex and his father looked at him, and God, this might have been worse than starving to death.

Eventually the silence just became too much, and Justin decided he needed to say something, no matter how stupid it was.

"So, uh," he began, not really knowing where to start. "Mr.Standall, sir, I just want to thank you for having me over tonight. The food's really amazing and I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it, Justin," Mr.Standall said, grinning at him almost too kindly. "We're happy to do it. You know you're welcome here any time."

"Wow, um, thank you, Mr.Standall," Justin said, giving him a small smile in return.

There was silence for a moment, and then Mr.Standall cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was oddly gentle.

"Now Justin," he said, his blue eyes too kind for Justin's liking. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about, and I thought it might be easier if you had Alex here. Is that alright with you?"

Justin shifted his gaze from Mr.Standall to Alex, and then back to Mr.Standall again. Something felt off, something felt _wrong,_ but he was in these dude's house now and there wasn't much he could do but go along with it.

What was he going to do, run?

"Okay, yeah, that's cool. Sir."

Mr.Standall nodded, shooting a quick glance at his son. Alex gave some sort of a nod of approval, and Mr.Standall started talking.

"Justin, kid- is everything alright at home?"

Justin was taken aback. Of course he was no stranger to inquiries about his home life, but here, really? An interrogation at the Standall's dinner table? He was not fucking ready for this, not even close.

"Yeah, everything is fine, everything's great," he said a little too eagerly, sounding false even to his ears.

_Strike one, Foley. Strike one._

"I talked to your father on the phone today," Mr.Standall said carefully, obviously trying not to upset him. "He said some things to me that frankly I found very troubling."

"What'd he say?" Justin asked, drawing his eyebrows together, pretending to be surprised that Seth had said something stupid.

"Well," Mr.Standall began, becoming increasingly uncomfortable, "He- well- he threated to attack you- physically- when you got home."

Justin sighed inwardly. _Fucking Seth_. Probably told this guy, this fucking _cop_ , that he was going to beat his ass the second he walked in the door.

"Does he frequently make this kind of threat against you, son?" he said, voice saturated in pity. "It sounded pretty serious to me, bud."

Justin only shook his head, feverishly, hating that fucking voice, the pity-voice, the one everyone always uses on him when they find out about screwed up life.

"He just says things sometimes," Justin said, not giving him a chance to speculate. "He never actually- he doesn't _do_ anything, you know? He's never done anything to me or whatever."

Mr.Standall just nodded at him, and Justin could tell by the look on his face that he didn't believe him. He looked over at Alex for some kind of a sign, but his face was blank, emotionless.

"So just to be clear, you're _not_ in any kind of trouble? You're sure of that?"

Justin looked at the table. He knew he should've looked Mr.Standall in the eye as he said it, but he didn't know how.

"Yes, Mr.Standall. I appreciate your concern, sir, but everything is completely fine."

Dinner was quite after that. Justin practically inhaled his dessert, took a moment to wipe his tears in the bathroom after the meal, and bounced out of there as quickly as he could.

He didn't want them to see him burst into tears, to bawl like a fucking baby, but it was there fucking faults for giving a shit about him anyway.

If they didn't care about him, then he never would've had a homemade pancake, and he never would've slept in a room both warm  _and_ safe, and now he wouldn't be running home by himself, crying shamelessly as he sprinted as fast as he could.


	8. Chapter 8

Alex ran up to his room, ignoring his dad calling him from the dining room below. He pried his phone out of the pocket of his jacket, struggling to dial Justin's number with shaking fingers.

Alex felt his heart sink as his call went straight to voicemail, and even hearing Justin's voice in the outgoing message, knowing what he now knew, was enough to bring him to tears.

As soon as he heard the beep, Alex couldn't contain himself any longer- his voice shaking as everything poured out of him at once.

"Justin-uh-it's me. Listen, I don't- I don't even know what to say, but I am _so_ fucking sorry. I'm sorry about my dad, I'm sorry _everything_ that ever fucking happened to you. I really should have- I should have done something a long time ago. I should have said something, I should have- I don't know. I'm just so, _so_ fucking sorry. Just- _please_ , call me back."

Justin hung up the phone and threw it on his bed, throwing himself across the mattress shortly afterward. The room still smelled like Justin's Axe body spray, and his duffelbag was still in the corner, ratty with clothes spilling out of it.

Alex felt the tears stinging at his eyes now, felt his face getting hot, and he knew he was on the verge of losing it completely. He closed his eyes then, and all he could see in his mind was Justin Foley, fucking Justin Foley. And it wasn't Justin Foley the super-jock, either, not Justin Foley the varsity athlete douchebag who broke Hannah's heart. The Justin he saw in his mind was the Justin Foley who stuck up for him when the rest of the basketball team laughed at him, the Justin Foley who treated Jessica like she was his whole world. The Justin Foley who was so lost, so hurt that he showed up at his doorstep one night with nowhere else to go. The Justin Foley he saw was the Justin who was so obviously hurting, so obviously in need of his help. The boy that Alex never saw, never helped, never did fucking _anything_ for.

Alex shivered, placing his head in his hands.

He had chances, so many chances.

He never did a single fucking thing.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_"Great," Alex sighed, grabbing his mesh T-shirt from his gym locker. "Who's idea was it to make me play football again?"_

_"Umm, pretty sure it was the gym teachers, Alex," Hannah sighed, standing outside his locker. Hannah and Jess had snuck into the boy's locker room again, unable to stand the relentless gossip and bullying going on in the girl's room._

_"But don't they know I have approximately the same amount of muscle as a 12 year old girl?"_

_At that, Jess snickered. "You could probably join the girls powerwalking if you like."_

_"Honestly, that kind of sounds more pleasant."_

_Alex stood in front of the mirror as he pulled his the T-shirt over his head, his eyes scanning his bony physique, his complete lack of biceps or abs or anything else that would help him survive the upcoming football game._

_"I might as well write my will now," Alex said. "There's no way I'm not going to die out there."_

_"You'll be fine," Hannah said, putting a hand on Alex's shoulder. "As long as you avoid everyone and hide in the corner, that is."_

_"Will do," Alex said, grabbing his water bottle as he walked outside towards the field. He jogged out to where the other boys were standing, some wearing mesh shirts and others shirtless. Alex stood off to the side a little bit, rubbing his arms in the cool fall air, shivering as he felt a breeze hit him._

_"Alright!" Coach Patrick yelled right on cue. "Shirts over here, skins on the other side. Go!"_

_Alex thanked the almighty gods that he was on the shirts side as he ran over to join his team, getting in the best position as he possibly could. He took a moment to survey the other side, and when he saw who he was facing he inwardly groaned. Bryce Walker, Zach Dempsey, Justin Foley...Great.  All more than capable of  killing him with one good hit to the chest._

_Alex was still going over the possibilities in his mind when Coach Patrick blew his whistle, and suddenly someone on the other team was barreling right at him. He didn't understand why, as he truly didn't understand football or any sport in general, but he quickly dodged him. After just barely missing him, Alex only stood there like a fool, not having any clue what to do._

_"Come on, Standall!" Joe Watson shouted. "What the fuck are you doing?"_

_"I don't know, Watson! I don't fucking know!" Alex shouted, because he was completely fed up with these douchebags at this point. He could no longer stand the jocks he went to school with, the ones who only knew sports and nothing else. He was sick and tired of being made to feel like a loser during gym class just because he didn't understand football and no one had bothered to take the time and explain it to him._

_Alex was almost too busy fuming inwardly to notice Justin Foley coming barreling at him, a football lodged in the crevice of his elbow._

_"Wake up Standall!" Joe Watson shouted. "He's coming right at you!"_

_Alex looked up and Justin was mere centimeters from his face, lean muscles bulging and hard on his abdomen, and Alex knew there was no way he was escaping this one._

_Nope. He was going to die this way. As a loser._

_It was a fitting end._

_Alex only stood there, bracing himself for his inevitable demise, and then the impossible happened._

_Justin collided with him roughly, but instead of the earth shattering pain he was expecting, Justin was the one who ended up howling._

_It wasn't even a hard collision- it barely pushed Alex back, and if he was bigger he probably wouldn't have lost his balance at all. But even though they barely made contact, Justin went down instantly, clutching at his arm- obviously in severe pain._

_"Oh my God," Alex breathed out, feeling like all of the wind had been knocked out of him. "-I'm so sorry."_

_Justin didn't respond, just kept groaning, curled in on himself as he held his arm into his chest._

_In less than a moment Zach Dempsey and Coach Patrick were helping him into the locker room. Alex caught one look at his arm on the way out, and he instantly knew that it was not his doing. Justin's arm was all black and blue, twisted awkwardly in a way that an arm should never be twisted._

_That was not his fault- no way. It had to be there before the game even started._

_But how?_

_Against his better judgement, Alex found himself following Justin into the locker room, watching as he leaned on Zach's shoulder as Coach went to get the First Aid._

_Alex walked up to him then, hesitantly at first, but then he squeezed his hands into fists and walked right up to the bench._

_"Justin," he said, suddenly at a loss for words._

_Justin looked up at him, eyes scrunched up in pain. "What do you want, Standall."_

_Alex shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at the floor of the locker room. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."_

_At that, Justin only let out a sharp laugh. To Alex, it sounded more like the beginning of a sob._

_"You didn't hurt me. It's cute that you think you could, though."_

_At this, Alex scowled. If he didn't, than who did?_

_"I didn't- I didn't do that to you?"_

_"God, no, Standall," Justin said, scoffing. "You think I could break my arm just from colliding with your bony ass?"_

_Alex only bit his lip, finally looking Justin in the eyes._

_"Whatever happened, whoever did it...I'm sorry."_

_Justin looked into his eyes, an odd expression on his face, but in less than a moment he had turned away from him._

_"Leave me alone, Standall," he said. "I don't need your pity. And no way, no fucking way do I need your help."_

_At that Alex turned away, walking out of the locker room. Screw Justin Foley. He was just trying to be nice to the prick, and Justin was being a total asshole._

_As Alex finally left the gym, however, a horrible sinking feeling overtook him, a terrible ache forming in his chest as he replayed Justin's last words to him in his mind._

_"-No way, no fucking way do I need your help."_

_Alex shuddered, crossing him arms over his chest. As the horrible realization hit him, he only drew into himself more, trying to make himself invisible as the tears began to prick at his eyes._

_"-No way, no fucking way do I need your help."_

_He had never even offered it._

 


	9. Chapter 9

Justin shoved his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket. It was dark, and raining, and he was completely alone- but wasn't that a perfect metaphor for his life?

Justin sighed, allowing his mind to wander. He thought about his mom for a while, then Alex Standall for some reason, but at some point his thoughts always returned to Jess.

 _Jess_. He wondered what she was doing right now, if she was thinking about him at all, if she was okay. He couldn't even imagine what she was going through right now, all the pain she was experiencing, and what truly hurt the most was that she was dealing with all of it on her own. He would do anything, give anything just to see her one more time, to make sure she was safe and not spiraling down the same awful path the rest of them seemed to be.

It was in that moment that Justin Foley wondered if he'd ever truly be happy again.

He racked his brain for an answer, mulling it over in his mind, but only one answer seemed to come to him.

_Not without Jessica._

He was only 3 blocks from his mother's apartment when he paused, looking in the direction of the apartment that he had grown up in, had experienced so much pain in, had always felt so alone in.

_Fuck that._

Justin turned around in the other direction, because no fucking way was he going home tonight to those uncaring assholes.

There was only one person in his life who had ever truly cared about him, he figured, and now he was on the verge of losing her forever.

He ran to the convenience store closest to the high school, still open if the neon sign hanging on the door was any indication. He paused in the aisle for only a moment before grabbing a basket and filling it with every candy bar and stuffed animal he could find. And then he remembered he only had $15 to his name so he put the majority of it back on the shelves.

After Justin stocked up on candy and stuffed animals he walked over to the card section.

So many choices. There were sympathy cards, apology cards, but none of them seemed to fit. He wished they made one that said 'Sorry for being such a dick', but he highly doubted that they did. Eventually he just chose a blank card with a couple of hearts on the cover and threw it in the basket.

Justin looked for a moment at his findings: a stuffed frog, a stuffed cat, 2 Snickers bars and a card with hearts on the cover.

He didn't even know if Jess liked frogs, but he knew she liked Snickers. She would always have one in his room after school, even though he would argue that Milky Ways were way better and that the peanuts totally ruined it.

Justin sighed, throwing the contents of his basket on the counter, still feeling like a complete and total loser.

When Jessica saw this, he figured, she'd probably just laugh in his face. He could almost picture it now.

_"You think this makes up for everything you've done?"_

Justin handed the cashier the rest of his money, all $15 of it. He knew this wouldn't work, knew it deep down his soul, but he had to try _something._

He couldn't lose her now. He just couldn't.

Justin took his bag of candy from the cashier and started walking down the street towards Jessica's house. The wind was picking up speed now, the sky was even darker than it had been before. A cold, sharp breeze hit Justin like a slap, but he forced himself to keep moving.

_Almost there._

He was almost there now, and when he got there everything would be okay. He would give Jess her candy, she would see how thoughtful he was, she would forgive him and everything would be just fine. It had to be.

Justin picked up the pace then, practically sprinting down the road. He was just about to turn down Jess's street when a dark figure appeared out of nowhere, a woman standing right in the middle of the sidewalk, and Justin had to jump out of the way to avoid running into her.

"Jesus Christ!" Justin exclaimed, slowing down to collect a Snickers bar that had fallen out of the bag. "Watch where you're going, lady!"

The woman didn't answer, so Justin just turned around, huffing as he threw the Snickers bar back in his bag and started to walk away.

It wasn't until he was almost out of earshot that he heard the voice, barely louder than a whisper and yet completely and unmistakably clear.

" _Where do you think you're going, Justin_?"

Justin turned around so fast he swore he almost snapped his neck clean off. When he saw her- if it _was_  her- his mouth went dry.

_Breathe, Justin. Breathe._

Standing there, right before his eyes, was none other than Hannah Baker.


	10. Chapter 10

"Come back here, Justin," she said, her voice bizarrely calm, and Justin instantly felt his stomach drop.

"No-no way," Justin muttered, backing away from her slowly.

"Come on, Justin Foley," she said, her voice still dripping with sarcasm and so unmistakably _Hannah_   that Justin had to grab onto the stop sign on the corner just to keep from falling over. 

"No- you're not real. You're just- you're in my head," he said frantically, leaning against the stop sign for support, a thin layer of sweat already building up on his forehead.

"Is that right, Justin?" She said, voice sickly sweet and yet menacing in the way only Hannah could manage. "You don't think I'm real?"

"You're not real," he repeated, taking another step back. "You're not."

Hannah just chuckled, giving Justin a knowing look. Her eyes were cast downward, and Justin saw that she was looking at the bag in his hand.

"That's all for Jessica, right? I saw the Snickers bar- her favorite, right?"

For some reason, Justin found himself nodding. Hannah only snickered to herself, bring up a hand to cover her smile.

"Oh, Justin," she said, unable to control her laughter. "Do you _really_ think that's going to work? After everything you've done to her? Really?"

Justin felt tears coming to his eyes now, but he furiously blinked them away. "I don't know."

Hannah just shook her head, crossing her arms. "Throw those away, Justin. You're just going to make everything worse."

Justin's grip on the bag only tightened. "What are you- why are you here?"

Hannah only smiled at him menacingly, walking over to his spot up against the stop sign. Justin quickly jumped away, backing up into the street as Hannah grabbed onto the pole of the stop sign, twirling around like she had no care in the world.

"Oh, Justin," she said. Justin shivered as he noticed her hair bouncing in the wind as she spun, still as dark and curly and vibrant as when she was alive. "Have you noticed you've been having a few more flashbacks than usual lately? Any memories coming back to you more and more?"

Justin paused, remembering the memories that had come to him at Alex's house the past two days, and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach.

"Well, your welcome," she said, leaning up against the stop sign now casually with her hands in her pockets.

"What do you want from me?" Justin asked, his voice pleading. "And why are you doing this?"

Hannah bit her lip, looking up towards the sky, before returning her gaze to Justin.

"Believe it or not, I'm going to help you."

"Help me _what?"_

"I'm going to help you get your lovely Jessica back."

Justin only narrowed his eyes. "What- but...how?"

"You and I are going to take a trip down memory lane, Justin Foley," she said, flashing him another beautiful, dangerous smile. "You see, I know exactly why you did what you did, but I don't think _you_ do. I've had a lot of time to think, Justin, about how you ruined my life and how you ruined Jessica. And, you know what? I think I might just give you a chance to redeem yourself."

"You're crazy. You're not real, and you're crazy."

"Yeah, well, that might be true," Hannah said nonchalantly, gazing at her electric-blue painted nails. "But there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Hannah held out her hand then and gave Justin a challenging look, daring him to grab it.

"Where are we going?" he choked out, his voice surprisingly small.

"You'll see, Justin. You'll see."


	11. Chapter 11

"Where the fuck are we?"

The second she grabbed his hand Justin had to close his eyes-afraid he might hurl if he kept them open. By the time he opened them a second later they were standing in a park in broad daylight, completely with a swing set, blacktop, slide and a jungle gym.

"You don't remember?"

Justin looked around again, this time noticing the wood chips scattered on the grass, the cherry red sandbox in the corner.

"Memorial Park," he muttered, his voice breathless.

"You practically grew up here," Hannah said, looking up at the bright sun overhead.

"Yeah, yeah I did," Justin replied. "But I don't understand...Why did you bring me here?"

"Well, Justin," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. "By now you know that I like to make lists."

Justin just nodded, urging her to go on.

"-And I'm a firm believer that there's a reason for everything," she said. Justin looked into her eyes then, for the first time noticing how incredibly blue they were.

"-So by now you might have figured out that I'm not the only person with a list of reasons why I did what I did," she said. "I made you one, too."

"You made me a _list?"_

"I did."

"But why?"

"-You ask too many questions," she said, giving Justin a sly grin. "Now it's time to see your first reason."

"Reason for what?"

"I'll explain at the end," Hannah said, turning her attention to blacktop. "Now, quiet. Your first reason is right over there."

Hannah pointed in the direction of the blacktop, and Justin spun around to see what she was looking at.

When he finally did turn around, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

He could only stand and watch, mouth gaping open and breath caught in his chest, as a 12 year old version of himself ran out to the blacktop, basketball clutched in his hands.

"Yo, what the- is that _me?!_ That's fucking- _no way._ This is fucking- I must be in a dream, I'm probably fucking hallucinating, I-"

"Calm down, drama queen," Hannah said nonchalantly, like all this was just fucking normal. "You were right the first time. That is you, about 4 years ago anyway."

"Are you serious? What the Hell is going on? Hannah! What did you do? This is-"

"Shhh," Hannah said, holding a finger to her lip. "The games are just about to begin."

Justin stood there in shock as a 12 year old Bryce walked out to the blacktop, following right behind the younger version of himself.

_"Yo, Justin," Bryce called, motioning for the ball. "Over here."_

_The younger Justin simply ignored him, clutching the ball closer to his chest. "Fuck off, Bryce."_

_"Oh come on, Foley," Bryce taunted, shooting Justin a slick smile. "Stop acting like a bitch."_

 

At that, Justin's jaw dropped. "I remember this! This was my first fight with Bryce." 

"Perceptive tonight, aren't we?" Hannah said bitingly. "Now keep watching. I want you to see this, all of it."

 

Justin turned his head back to the blacktop. 12-year-old Bryce and Justin were now glaring at each other, and a crowd of curious students had formed around them.

_"Yo, man, you have to stay the Hell away from Maria," Justin warned, his voice dangerously low._

_"Why the fuck should I, Foley?"_

_"She's my girlfiend, you dick."_

_"She was your girlfriend, you mean," Bryce said, smirking. "Last time I checked she moved on to something bigger and better."_

_"Fucking dick!" Justin cried out, hurling the basketball at Bryce's chest. Bryce dodged it easily, raising his eyebrows at Justin._

_"Really, Justin? You want to fight me?"_

_"Maybe I do," Justin replied, voice shaking slightly._

_The crowd that had formed around them started to cheer, and Bryce smiled viciously at him._

_"You really want to do this, Foley?"_

_"Yeah," Justin replied, his voice louder this time. "Yeah, I do."_

_"You really want me to kick your ass like your daddy does? Is that what you want?"_

_The crowd immediately started laughing. No one seemed to notice the way all of the color seemed to drain out of Justin's face._

_"Cause I'll do it! I'll fucking belt you too!"_

_The crowd laughed even louder this time, and Greg Harrison yelled for the both of them to just fight already._

_Justin balled up his hand into a fist, his small frame shaking as he attempted to look Bryce in the eyes._

_"Yo, dude," he said quietly, loud enough for only the two of them to hear. "You- you said you would never say anything about Carl. You promised."_

_Bryce's evil grin only grew larger as he heard the crowd's laughter, and Justin looked like he was about to be sick._

_"That's what you want, isn't it?" Bryce said, an awful glint in his eye. "You want me to beat you just like all your mama's boyfriends. I'm honored, Foley, I really am."_

_"Shut the fuck up, Bryce."_

_"-And I'll do it, too," Bryce said, his grin no longer taunting but sadistic. "Seems like everybody gets a chance to beat on little Justin Foley. Guess it's my turn, huh?"_

_Justin just stood there for a moment, his cheeks now a bright red, his watery gaze turned to the asphalt. His lip was quivering, his whole body shaking in the cool fall air._

_"You're such- you're such an asshole," he spat, his voice breaking on the last word, and finally Justin stormed off the blacktop._

_The crowd simply cheered and cheered and cheered, watching as Bryce took a celebratory bow. Always the hero, always the fucking man._

 

"Good times, am I right?"

Justin just turned to Hannah, his face just as red now as it was four years ago.

"Why the Hell did you have to show me that?" Justin snapped.

Hannah finally dropped the bitchy act, finally stopped smiling her evil little smile as she watched the scene unfold on the blacktop. The kids were still cheering Bryce on, all fucking 100 of them.

"You're angry at me because you're remembering how you felt that day," Hannah said, a far-off quality to her voice. "...Ashamed, embarrassed. Afraid."

Justin just took a deep breath through his nose. "So- what, you're just doing this to get back at me? You just want to torture me?"

Hannah only laughed softly to herself. "Believe me Justin, if I only wanted to torture you there were much easier ways to do it."

"Okay, then- why? Why would you bring me here? Why would you do this to me?"

"Because, Justin," Hannah said, looking him square in the eye.

"-This, what you just witnessed right here, marked the beginning of the end."

"The end of _what?"_

Hannah only laughed a sad little laugh.

"The end of you, Justin," she said quietly. "The end- the death of Justin Foley."


	12. Chapter 12

"Oh God," Justin sighed, still squeezing onto Hannah's arm for dear life. "Where are we going now?"

"Scared, much?" Hannah's voice taunted him. "You can relax now, Justin, we're here. And please, for the love of God get your hands off me."

Justin quickly released his grip on Hannah's arm, and only then did he allow himself to open his eyes.

"Remember this place, Justin?" Hannah asked.

Justin looked around. They were inside now, in what seemed to be an apartment- and a pretty average one at that. There was a brown leather sofa against the wall, a small TV in the corner, and the place smelled faintly of weed and air freshener.

"It's just an apartment," Justin said incredulously.

"Really, Justin?" Hannah asked. "I'm disappointed in you. Here, let me give you a hint."

"Are we really going to play games right now?"

"-Check out the wall next to the window."

Justin sighed, turning his attention to the wall. The second he laid eyes on it, on the fist-shaped hole in it specifically, he knew _exactly_ where he was.

"This is Carl's apartment," Justin said, memories flooding back to him at an alarming rate.

"Your first stepdad," Hannah said, her gaze fixed on the hole in the wall. "The first time you had an actual family, complete with mommy, daddy and even a pet. _How sweet_."

Justin just shook his head. If she wasn't already dead, he would've been tempted to murder her.

"And speak of the devil," Hannah said, turning her attention to the door.

Alex watched as Carl walked in through the front door, immediately plopping himself down on the couch and reaching for the remote.

It had been 6 years since Justin had seen the douchebag, and just the sight of him still made him nauseous. He hated everything about him, from his disgusting potbelly to his cheesy drugstore cologne.

_Justin watched then as 10 year old version of himself came into the room, sitting down across from Carl with a Nintendo game in one hand and a soda in the other. Young Justin sat there on the couch quietly playing his Nintendo, while Carl only stared at the muted TV set, his eyes glazed over._

_Both of them just sat there, not saying a word._

_And then Carl opened his mouth, his gruff voice still grating to Justin's ears._

_"Did you really just fucking take the last can of soda?"_

_Justin watched as the 10 year old version of himself immediately stiffened, sitting up straighter in his seat. Justin looked frightened for a moment, his blue eyes going wide, but he quickly forced himself to calm down, relaxing into his chair._

_"So what if I did?" he asked, a challenge in his eye._

_"That was my fucking soda, you little brat," Carl growled, squaring his jaw._

_Justin only shrugged. "Didn't have your name on it."_

_"Yeah, well, I fucking bought it, didn't I?" Carl spat then, his eyes blazing._

_Justin simply popped the tab on his Sprite can, taking a long sip._

_"Yeah, you did, didn't you?" Justin said with a smirk, looking Carl right in the eyes. "Guess it was time you finally paid for something around here, right?"_

_Justin could only watch then as Carl got up from his seat and lunged at the younger version of himself, pinning him to the wall by his shirt collar. Justin fought back violently, pushing against the man's meaty chest and squirming against his tight grip, but Carl wouldn't budge._

_After a minute of struggling Justin finally gave up, simply hanging there against the wall as Carl got right up in his face, his expression contorted into a hideous glare._

_"Now you listen to me, asswipe," Carl whispered menacingly, a trail of spit landing on the corner of Justin's eye. "You might think you're a little superstar just because your little coachy says so, but you know what? You ain't shit. Your nothing, you got that? Nothing. Nothing but a pain in the ass to your mother and me. I can't wait for the day you turn 18 kid, because I can promise you now you'll be out on your ass."_

_At that, Carl finally released his grip on Justin, and Justin stumbled back into the wall, eyes wide and fearful._

_"-Now get out of my sight."_

_As soon as the words left his mouth, Justin ran away as fast as his tiny legs could take him, practically tripping over himself as he ran to his room and slammed the door shut._

 

Justin could only watch as the scene ended, biting his lip to keep it from quivering as he watched Carl sit back down on the couch, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

_He didn't even drink the damn Pepsi._

Justin turned to Hannah then, her eyes still glued to the scene in front of them, glaring at Carl with cold blue eyes. 

"That really got to you, didn't it?" Hannah asked, turning towards Justin. "What your stepdad said."

"I didn't give a fuck about him. He was an idiot."

"But you did care about what he said," Hannah said knowingly. "You believed it. You believed that you were worthless, that no one would ever love you."

"Are you crazy?" Justin asked, not caring that his voice was getting oddly high. "I'm not some depressed chick with a diary or whatever. I don't feel 'worthless', whatever the Hell that means."

"But you do," Hannah said, like she knew all the answers to the fucking universe. "And it all started with this, with Carl, and then with Seth."

"I thought you said it started with my fight with Bryce at the park."

Hannah only shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets. "My mistake. I guess sometimes it's hard to tell exactly where it begins or where it ends. Take, for instance, the end of Hannah Baker."

Justin only gulped, immediately looking away.

"-Did it start when Alex made that list about me, when Jessica slapped me, when Bryce fucking _raped_ me?" she said, her tone becoming acidic. "...Or did it start when Justin Foley took one little photo up my skirt at the playground?"

At that Justin leaned over to his side and threw up, his stomach lurching as he emptied the contents of his stomach.

Hannah Baker just shook her head, the evil smile returning to her lips.

"If that one messed you up, well...I can only hope you'll survive what's coming next."


End file.
